


wardrobe theft 101

by boom_slap



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boom_slap/pseuds/boom_slap
Summary: "We know Martín stole Andrés' velvet blazers all the time, but does Andrés ever wear sth of Martín's?"spoiler alert: the answer is yes
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 28
Kudos: 235





	wardrobe theft 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dashwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwood/gifts).



> dashwood, whose work I a d o r e , gave me this prompt on tumblr so that I could deal with my emotions

Martín isn’t _stealing_ Andrés’ clothes, per se. He’s been borrowing them since he was a twenty-something years old kid pulled out of squalor by this devilishly handsome man, older and intent on showing Martín how to live a life of decadence and luxury. 

See, he likes his clothes comfortable, first and foremost. Also, durable. Which is why he wears leather, denim, corduroy, cotton, wool.

Andrés, on the other hand, likes clothes that are exquisite. He scowls at Martín’s choices and wraps himself in silk, satin, cashmere, velvet or linen, if the weather is hot. He insists on dressing Martín up as well, from time to time. 

At first, Andrés’ clothes were a little bit too big on him. He actually really liked that.

Then, as he got older and turned out not as lean as his best friend, they fitted well, though not perfectly - sometimes, they were too tight and the sleeves on both shirts and pants were always just a bit too long. Andrés laughed whenever Martín had to roll them up.

Nowadays, some of the clothes that find their way into Andrés’ enormous wardrobe are clearly meant specifically for Martín. 

“Leopard print? Are you serious?”

“It doesn’t suit me very much, but you should try it on.”

It’s nice and every piece smells like Andrés. 

They’re working on their plan and Martín has to leave for a few days to meet with a contact. He’s happy when the meetings turn out to be very productive and he doesn’t have to stay in Spain for long. 

When he’s done, he catches the first flight back to Italy and manages to make it to the monastery by midnight. 

He grins when he sees the light at the end of the corridor, in the chapel; Andrés is probably still working through security protocols. 

Martín walks into the chapel and almost _melts_ at the sight of Andrés asleep, head in his arms which are folded over the desk overflowing with papers. He steps closer and then, he can swear he has a heart attack. 

For someone who regularly describes Martín’s wardrobe as “a bunch of rags stolen from a donation box”, Andrés looks awfully comfortable in his washed out, denim button-up shirt. Martín realizes it was the one he was wearing the day before his trip and he did _not_ do any laundry. 

A wild grin stretches across his face as he leans in, putting his hand on his friend’s back. 

“Andrés,” he says softly and the man stirs. He raises his head, blinks a few times and smiles at the sight of Martín. 

“You’re back early,” he says, sleepy and delighted. This is easily one of the top ten moments of Martín’s life. 

“You can’t sleep like that, your back will hurt. Come on,” Martín pulls him to his feet and as they walk to Andrés’ room, he tells him about his meetings. Andrés is nodding, yawning from time to time. The moment they enter the room, he falls onto the bed and stretches out over the covers like a lazy cat. 

Martín decides to strike before he loses his bravado. 

“I see you’ve been missing me,” he smirks, pointing at the shirt. Andrés stares at him, his eyes still foggy with sleep, expression unreadable. 

Martín feels his face burning and he hates it, so he bends down to turn off the light on the nightstand; the plan is to hide in the darkness and run back to his own room in order to cherish the image of Andrés wearing his clothes in peace. 

What happens instead is the following - the moment the light is out, Andrés grabs Martín’s wrist and pulls him down. He loses his balance and falls right on top of Andrés with a surprised gasp. 

Before he can say anything, he’s being tucked under Andrés’s chin, his arms wrapping themselves tightly around him. 

“I did miss you,” Andrés murmurs and Martín should be in the middle of, probably, _dying_ , but instead, his body relaxes into the warmth and the familiar scent. “I always miss you when you’re not around.”

Martín breathes deeply and a moment later, he hears soft snores. 

This moment easily takes the first spot on his dumb little list. 


End file.
